


Smoke and Blood

by jinkazama



Category: Tekken
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Rimming, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkazama/pseuds/jinkazama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kazuya's been following his brother out at night. What happens when Lee catches him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merci](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merci/gifts), [thegreymoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreymoon/gifts).



> This was actually the first Tekken fic I ever started writing, so I have to gift it to my two favourite Kazuya/Lee authors who got me into this pairing and inspired me to write them myself!
> 
> Set several years before the first Tekken tournament - Kazuya and Lee are 19 in this story.

Kazuya frowned from his place in the corner, hidden by darkness.

He'd followed Lee out again.

His younger brother was in the habit of sneaking out at night to compete in underground fighting rings.

During the day, he trained at the dojo with Heihachi and Kazuya, practicing a relatively proscriptive regime. About six months ago, he’d begun incorporating new moves and stances into his repertoire, stuff he would only bring out when sparring alone with Kazuya. He would refuse to tell Kazuya where he’d learned these things, but of course that had never stopped him from conducting his own investigations. Kazuya had followed him after a month of seeing Lee come home late dishevelled, wondering where he'd been. Though relations between the two were cool, Kazuya felt as the elder that he had a right to know what Lee was getting up to.

Lee went to be free.

All week long, they grafted in the dojo at the merciless hand of Heihachi. They were expected to keep their grades high in university, as well as shine at social events and business functions, the two sons of a feared Tokyo potentate. Kazuya, wrestling with his anger and hate, suffocated. Lee shone. He had been found living on the streets of China as a child by Heihachi. The strict life demanded of him was comforting in its routine.

Besides, Lee simply took his pleasures elsewhere, as Kazuya had found.

Kazuya was now awaiting his younger brother's fight, hidden from view in a dark corner. All around him men argued and chatted excitedly about the fight to come. Money changed hands, men swore and argued over the odds they’d been offered, spat and took them anyway. The energy in the place was electric, and Kazuya let it all wash over him as he quietly smoked in the corner.

"The silver-haired demon, easily!" a middle-aged man said, thrusting a fistful of yen into the young bookie’s hand. He nodded and counted through the folds of money, before scribbling down the bet, handing back a red slip to his customer, who snatched at it eagerly.

 _Silver-haired demon? That's a new one_ , Kazuya thought, amused. He wondered if Lee knew about it.

Lee's hair often drew attention, understandably. It hung silver and shining from a centre parting. Those who hated him –and they were legion, jealous of his wealth, intelligence and looks- whispered it was the colour of death, that no Chinese should have that hair without an accompanying curse. Lee dismissed this, as he did most things, easily. His striking hair simply served to emphasise his exquisite, unusual beauty.

For Lee _was_ beautiful. Slightly smaller and more delicate-looking than Kazuya, he nevertheless had undeniable beauty, which was bad enough, as well as charm, wit and intelligence. His face was built on smoother, more androgynous lines than Kazuya’s rather angular features; Lee was his physical opposite in many ways. Kazuya was solid and thickly muscled, the Mishima build, made for brute strength. Lee was leaner, lighter and faster. There was not so much as an ounce of superfluous fat on him. His legs were long and roped with muscle; they drove his ferocious kicks which had unceremoniously upended Kazuya more times than he could count. His speed was simply incredible; many times Kazuya had been frustrated by the silvery blur whirling on the cusp of his vision, eluding him effortlessly.

Oh, he could fight. Not _quite_ as well as Kazuya, in his opinion, but enough to beat Kazuya on many occasions, well enough to draw their father’s praise when Kazuya only received scowls and beatings.

Kazuya felt that this was the real reason Heihachi had chosen him. Lee would be a perfect, gilded, powerful son for Heihachi. He was scarred, dark, frowning. His heavy brows naturally sat in a frown over his face; eyes didn’t linger on his face as they did Lee’s. Kazuya had observed guests and friends of his father’s eyes on Lee; they would nod politely to Kazuya, shake his hand, and move on. He would see his father’s associates, who’d been in a hurry to get away from him, hover around Lee all night, gasping for even a second’s attention. Lee was well aware of them, and revelled in the attention. Who wouldn’t? Wasn’t he the darling son of Heihachi Mishima, a renowned fighter in his own right?

What did he have to fear from a drunken businessman?

What would their father say if he knew where their perfect Lee went at night, long after he’d fallen asleep?

Kazuya's brooding had almost made him miss Lee's entrance. A hush fell over the crowd. He edged back into his corner, and pressed out his cigarette on a filthy railing. Lee would not see him. A man he'd nudged out of the way turned round in anger, then thought better of it after seeing Kazuya's face and huge fists clenched.

Lee drifted into the centre of the makeshift ring. He was wearing a tight purple top Kazuya didn't recognise and his favourite leather trousers. Steel-capped boots and fingerless black gloves completed the look. He basked in the obvious adoration of the crowd. Turning and dipping in a series of bows to the corners of the room, he was elegant and charming. The crowd’s roars intensified. It was as though he was taking the stage after a theatre performance, rather than merely stepping onto the greasy canvas of Shinjuku’s most notorious underground fighting ring.

His opponent skulked in the corner. There were no flashy theatrics from him. He was a huge scarred man with a shaved head and slablike thighs like marble columns. Towering at least a foot over Lee, he was an imposing presence. Some of the crowd murmured uneasily on catching sight of him. Kazuya sneered at their concerns.

Lee showed no fear. Why would he? After all, he had to train with Heihachi every day. A week’s training under that demon was enough to break even the toughest man. Kazuya was equally unimpressed. He’d seen Lee take down men who looked as though they’d been removed from prisons for the other inmates’ protection. This man was nothing in comparison to some of the thugs Heihachi had in his seedier circles.

The bell went. Lee immediately flew at his opponent with swift kicks. The dull thuds on impact drew gasps from the crowd. All delicacy and grace before the fight, once it started his brutality was shocking in comparison, especially for those who hadn’t seen him fight before, Kazuya imagined. On his feet, he easily blocked killer punches from the other man, too swift to be blocked in or caught. Vicious blows flew from his fists at the other man's head and chest, catching him sharply, making some of the audience pale and whisper. Kazuya caught the murmurs of fear and approval from the crowd. There were more whispers of 'demon'. _If only they knew_.

Suddenly, the other man caught Lee with a punishing kick to the side. Lee skidded and regained his balance, breathing heavily. He fell into what he called his hitman stance and twisted towards his opponent. With a mocking smile twisting across his lips, he beckoned the other fighter to attack.

Kazuya found himself smirking darkly in approval. Only someone as young and brilliant as Lee could pull that move. He’d long since learned not to respond to that one, but this creature wouldn’t be so lucky.

The move had its usual, predictable effect. Bellowing, Lee's opponent charged at him. The crowd's murmurs rose in apprehension. Lee struck out with an impeccably-timed kick to the jaw, sending the larger man flying into the corner with a sickening crunch, where he lay, unconscious and bleeding.

The entire thing had taken less than five minutes from start to finish.

Kazuya was rock hard.

Lee bowed neatly, and turned to leave.

Kazuya watched where he went. The crowd surged, eager to claim their winnings from the bookies, who looked predictably enraged. As Lee turned right, towards the showers, his smirk deepened. Lee was going out afterwards, then.

_And I'll be following._

On the rare occasion Lee went straight home after a fight – usually because he had some engagement he couldn’t dodge the next morning - Kazuya would go out himself. He’d find a club where his face wouldn’t be known, and a man whose name he wouldn’t ask, and bury himself in them. Pressing them hard against a grimy wall, or bending them over, he’d discharge all the adrenaline and lust, and leave without saying a word. It wasn’t enough, it was never enough, but it allowed him to come down enough to go home – by which time Lee would have gone to sleep.

Bribes could get you anything in life, Kazuya had found early on. In his case, bribing Lee's driver got him picked up from the fight venue ten minutes after Lee had already been dropped off at the club he liked to frequent afterwards. It also helped the man to realise the benefits of lying to Heihachi about where he brought Lee at night. _Though Devil had as much to do with that as money_ , Kazuya mused. No, he never let Devil out, but there was enough about his aura and cruel gaze to frighten men into compliance without question.

They had arrived fifteen minutes ago, and Kazuya felt enough time had passed. He slid from the back of the car without a word and into the club. Nobody ever refused Kazuya entry anywhere. If his obvious wealth and privilege wasn't enough, his air of menace and readiness for a fight certainly were.

This was Lee's favourite place to go after fighting. Inside, men milled around, laughing at the bar, kissing in corners and dancing together on the tiny dancefloor. The air was hot and smoky.

Kazuya knew where he'd find Lee.

Pausing at the bar only to order a triple whiskey, he turned to watch the dancefloor. As he expected, Lee was there. His silver hair was picked out in the spotlight. He was surrounded by other men, all jostling and shoving each other to get nearer to him. Lee, however, was obviously taken by a handsome man in his early twenties, with bright dyed red hair. The redhead’s hands were all over him, unashamedly groping and touching. Beside Lee, a dark-haired man had also caught his attention. Lee smiled, a bright flash of teeth, and reached out for him. They ground their hips together as their tongues met. Kazuya couldn't take his eyes off them.

Eventually, Lee pulled out of the kiss, and whispered something in the red-haired man's ear. As expected, they left the dancefloor, with the brunette following close behind.

Kazuya waited exactly five minutes, counting the seconds out in his head, knocked back his drink and followed.

The back room was dark, smoky, and filled with couples. With their bright hair, Lee and the red-haired man kneeling in front of him were unmistakable.

Kazuya found a shadowed spot where he could watch them unobserved.

Lee's leather trousers had been undone and hung around his knees. He thrust his hips forward, greedily grinding into the other man's face. His hands entwined in the red hair. Leaning his top half against the wall with his eyes closed, his beautiful face was a picture of bliss. Crouching behind him, the dark-haired man spread Lee’s cheeks with his hands and licked, sucked, and tongued. Lee’s lips parted, and he moaned softly.

Kazuya unconsciously slid a hand down to touch himself, aware of the silent men around him, all watching Lee and the two other men. Eyes drifted over to him, trying to catch his attention. He ignored them. All his attention was on Lee.

Lee's gasps and pants increased in volume, he was close. Kazuya wondered how aware he was of his audience, how much of his reaction was real and how much was for show. He reluctantly drew his hand away from his painfully hard cock - he would need to make a quick exit soon, and coming all over himself there would hardly be discreet. Wrenching his hand away, he looked back to Lee for a final glance to take home with him.

Lee's eyes were open, and focused on him.

Even worse, he didn't look remotely shocked or surprised to see Kazuya there, watching with the others.

Kazuya froze.

Lee arched his back into the redhead’s mouth, and moaned deeply, without breaking eye contact. His fingers tightened in the red hair. He came with a cry, gazing deep into Kazuya's eyes. The dark-haired man finished his ministrations behind him, and got to his feet behind Lee.

When Lee pulled the red-haired man to his feet, kissing him deeply, the spell broke, and Kazuya ran. Outside, on the street, he ignored the car waiting and looked around for a taxi. Lee emerged just as he had been driven off. Immediately, Lee jumped into the back of the car and ordered his driver to bring him home, ignoring the men who’d followed him out gesturing angrily on the pavement.

In his own room, Kazuya was horrified. What sort of a man would allow his brother to watch him doing that? What sort of a man would _enjoy_ it? His fists clenched and he paced restlessly.

Car lights bounced against his window. He heard doors slam and Lee thanking the driver. He waited.

Sure enough, Lee walked right in without knocking. He was dishevelled and sweaty; the silky hair was all over the place. Pausing to lean against the doorframe, he grinned openly at Kazuya.

“Good evening, brother?”

Kazuya could not find it in himself to answer _that_ with anything but a snarl. Lee’s smile deepened, dark eyes dancing.

“What were you doing, following me like that?”

“Keeping an eye on you.”

“And your hand firmly on your cock, I noticed. You fucking pervert. I never would have thought you could be that _interesting_.”

“I wasn’t the one being sucked off and rimmed in front of a crowd of men, you fucking moron! What if someone was filming you, or that story gets out? Heihachi would kill us both without even thinking about it!”

“Don’t be so boring,” Lee sighed. Reaching into his pocket with his right hand, he extracted a pack of menthol cigarettes, shaking one out to light it with his left. Kazuya felt the rage building, as Lee took his time pulling at the cigarette before speaking.

“The redhead was the Prime Minister’s youngest son. The brunette with the talented tongue is the Minister of Finance’s cousin. _Nothing_ gets out of that club, and nobody gets in without screening.”

Pausing to pull deeply again, he closed his eyes and savoured the smoke briefly.

“Not that any of that matters anyway, because I’m blackmailing the owner.”

“How?”

“You never had any imagination, Kazuya.”

Lee took one final pull of his cigarette, and extinguished it with a twist of his fingers.

“So now that flimsy excuse for your presence has been dispatched, tell me the real reason.”

Stony-eyed, Kazuya glared back at him. Another man would quail or drop his gaze. Lee merely stared back, utterly unafraid.

“Why did you follow me? Why were you watching?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation, you fucking _maggot_.”

“Did you enjoy watching me with those men?”

Kazuya roared, and vaulted towards Lee, pinning him against the doorframe with the strength of his huge shoulders. Lee continued gazing at him placidly as though they were discussing the weather over the breakfast table.

“I _know_ you did, Kazuya. I could see you touching yourself.”

“You fucking liar,” Kazuya spat, closing his fists on Lee’s slender pale throat.

“You should come with me next time, you’d enjoy it. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t. You could have your pick of any man there!”

 _Careful_ , Kazuya thought. He’d regained some control, enough to realise the familiar pattern of this goading. Lee would taunt and provoke and tease him into a rage, Kazuya would inevitably lash out, and Heihachi would beat Kazuya for his lack of control. Oh, he’d put Lee over his lap and beat him, but nobody bore the brunt of Heihachi’s rage quite like Kazuya. He had the scars to prove it.

Relaxing slightly, Kazuya took his hands off his brother, and stepped backwards, away from Lee. He turned his back and closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to regain a cool head.

Lee began to laugh.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, brother? You’re chanting like Father in your head now; _control, control, control_. You might as well be practicing your kata for how obvious it is. It’s _pathetic_. You lost your control a long time ago. You can’t even admit to yourself why you followed me. Why you _kept_ following me.”

Kazuya’s breath stopped, and he turned. His knees shook, so he quickly sat on his bed to hide it.

“Yes, I’ve known you were there watching. Why did you think I kept going to the same places? I could go anywhere in Tokyo. And I did, before you started following me.”

His eyes were on Kazuya’s face, watching for his reaction.

“Why did you keep following me?”

Lee stared at him in silence. Kazuya was deeply uncomfortable. He hadn’t expected this. It was as though Lee could see into his mind, all the furtive and shameful thoughts that were too often dominant when it came to his brother. Lee was slippery. It was one thing to be caught tonight, but to know Lee had been aware of him for months? Had allowed him to watch –

“Why did you allow me to watch? Why didn’t you say something before?”

“You’re so _obvious_ , Kazuya. You can’t even be honest about the fact you’ve lost your control, so now you’re doing exactly what you do when you get beaten down in training – counterattacking!”

“Shut the fuck up, you little creep! How do you think Father would feel if he knew the mutt he dragged off the streets of China was being fucked in every hole by every cock in the city?”

“Father would ask why his oldest son hadn’t put a stop to my deviant behaviour. He would ask about the security tapes spanning several months that show you following me. He might be curious as to what _you_ were doing, Kazuya. After all, I’m just a street _mutt_ he adopted to torment you with. You’re his blood.”

Lee’s scornful words bit, and his dark eyes were angry.

Unbelievable. Yet Kazuya felt the truth of Lee’s words. Heihachi would roar like the demon he was after Lee. He would break some of his bones and give him some scars. But for Kazuya –

Closing his eyes, he remembered the cold wind rippling through his hair as he struggled in his father’s arms. His screams disappeared into the trees, as he fought against his father’s grip. Heihachi’s arms were iron. He walked slowly to the edge of the cliff, allowing Kazuya to get a good look down at the jagged chasm.

“Please Father! I’ll be good! I’ll try harder! I’ll be strong!”

“Yes, Kazuya, you will…if you live,” his father replied, opening his arms to the abyss.

Back in the present, Kazuya shivered. He had been so young and helpless. When he’d dragged himself up from the depths, he’d sworn he would take his revenge, that he would never be unable to defend himself again.

“Kazuya?”

Opening his eyes, he saw that Lee had come over to him, with a look of concern in his dark eyes. Kazuya was too unsettled to strike out, to push Lee away. Lee knelt before him, peering up at his face.

“What happened, Kazuya?”

His hands were gentle, stroking Kazuya’s knees in little circles. Lee smelled like sex and menthol and vodka and a million other unsavoury things, and his scent filled Kazuya’s nostrils til it was all he could perceive. Lee’s silver hair hung halfway over his face, partially obscuring the seraphic features, and there was nothing Kazuya wanted to do more than to brush it away and –

He closed his eyes, and dipped his head. He was not weak, not anymore. He would be strong, regain his control. Including over this. _This_ could not be allowed to fill his mind.

“Kazuya?”

That voice. Ever since he’d met Lee, that voice calling his name, the first Japanese word he’d ever mastered, had made him feel needed long before he would even acknowledge why.

Lee had been brought to their home as a rival, meant to push Kazuya into bettering himself and becoming the heir his father needed. Heihachi would play them against each other, taunting them for their mistakes and drawing unfavourable comparisons between them. Lee had been so easy to hate, at first. Once he’d learned Japanese and gained some much-needed weight on his waiflike frame, his confidence had grown and he’d been nothing short of insufferable. Even worse, he could fight, and fight well.

The peculiar mix of resentment and affection coloured their whole relationship. Kazuya took enormous pleasure in beating Lee in a fight, often brutally. Yet when their father had hit Lee for the first time, Kazuya had lashed out at him, before he could prevent himself from acting. It was stupid. Kazuya had learned long ago that it was better to take his father’s punishment than to fight back. Punishment was less painful.

Heihachi’s eyes were wide and surprised, before relaxing into a cruel smile. Behind him, Lee lay where he’d been thrown to the floor, wordlessly touching the narrow red slit on his cheekbone that Heihachi’s fist had left. His blood dripped onto the dojo floor as his eyes met Kazuya’s, the expression in them unreadable. He’d been living with them for a few months by then, and training with them for most of that time, yet this was the first time Heihachi had hit him. Heihachi would never let him learn Mishima Karate, of course – that was reserved for sons of the Mishima blood - but he expected Lee to refine his street fighting ability into a discipline sooner rather than later, and when Lee made mistakes, they were punished.

The beating Heihachi gave Kazuya for defying his “discipline” of Lee had necessitated two days off school and meals in his room.

Lee visited him between school and training, bringing him comics, sweets and missed homework assignments, talking to him nonstop. They’d spent hours together, as much time as Lee had. Lee had even offered to do the homework he’d missed, though he was in the year below. They didn’t acknowledge the incident.

Once he’d returned to training, Kazuya repaid this affection by beating Lee to the point Heihachi had to intervene. In his mind, he felt Lee couldn’t understand. He feared Heihachi would use his weakness against him, another tool to chip away at him. The look in Lee’s eyes as he dragged himself up with an effort cut him deeply, yet Kazuya felt relief when he glanced at his father and saw the satisfaction on his face.

So it was when it came to Lee. Kazuya stole Lee’s things, throwing his school books away and getting him in trouble with Heihachi and his teachers. He sneaked into his room and destroyed his homework after Lee had laughed at his new sneakers. He was never hesitant in dishing out a punch when Lee defied him in some way. Lee needed putting in his place, Kazuya thought, and he considered that to be his role.

But Lee didn’t take to being put in his place. He charmed the teachers with tales of bullies who’d robbed his books on the way to school, and he had the (self-inflicted) bruises to prove it. He offered to make up for the lost homework and because he was a brilliant pupil (with an extremely rich father), they were only too willing to let it slide. When Kazuya punched him, Lee was never shy to hit or kick back, laughing at Kazuya’s frustration. He would not submit, and that was infuriating.

As Lee had found his own friends and spent his free time with them, they’d drifted apart, spending less time together. Kazuya watched as Lee’s friends turned up at the house; unworthy creatures who didn’t appreciate Lee enough, he thought. They would never invite Kazuya to join them; he was too intimidating, even at that age. There were girlfriends, fleetingly; beautiful and confident, whose giggles tormented Kazuya at night. Occasionally, though he could never confirm their identities, there were boys. Lee took them to his room late at night, after Heihachi had gone to bed, and their low moans kept Kazuya awake, tearing at his sheets with rage.

Kazuya had challenged Lee over this one morning as they prepared to spar.

“You had a good evening, brother?” he sneered, his meaning clearly implied. Lee looked at him coldly. He’d stopped stretching, and straightened himself up to his full height. Kazuya glared back. Walking over to him, Lee stopped an inch away from Kazuya, still holding his eyes.

“Are you jealous?”

“What?!” Kazuya spat, outraged. Lee didn’t move away; his cool gaze was unflinching.

“Should I be embarrassed about fucking them? What were you doing? Brooding and masturbating to the sound of us through the walls?”

Kazuya was so taken aback he didn’t even move.

“I like what I like,” Lee whispered, with a dangerous tone to his voice. “I’m comfortable with that. I think it’s sad you aren’t. And yes, since you’re so concerned, I had a fucking _wonderful_ time. He wasn’t able to walk right after I was finished.”

He turned and walked straight out the dojo, leaving Kazuya steaming with rage. By the time Kazuya regained his senses and tore out after him, Lee had disappeared.

“Kazuya!”

Lee’s hands had stopped stroking, though they remained on him. Kazuya shook his head.

“It was nothing.”

“You looked a million miles away. What’s wrong? Tell me.”

No. He would not, could not tell Lee. How could he, when he was unable to be honest with himself?

Lee stood up, and sat on the bed beside him. He leaned over and peered into Kazuya’s face.

Shortly after the confrontation in the dojo, Lee had stopped bringing girls and boys home with him. This tormented Kazuya even more than the muffled moans and cries. He knew Lee wouldn’t have suddenly embraced celibacy. It drove him mad, not knowing, so he took control of the situation and started following Lee.

He’d only meant to do it once, but the thrill he got from seeing Lee with other men made everything else seem flat and dead in comparison. It compelled him to sneak after his brother, skulking in the shadows after him. He told himself that it proved Lee was stupid, that he had the upper hand because he knew more about Lee than Lee did about him. Now he wondered if he’d ever have stopped following Lee without Lee seeing him.

Kazuya looked at his knees and said nothing.

Lee sighed and stood up. He moved over to the window, but showed no signs of leaving. Idly, he picked up some of the things on Kazuya’s desk; a textbook, a belt, a pack of cigarettes. He eyed them without really looking at them, though he paused to shake out a cigarette into his hand.

“Want one?”

“They’re my cigarettes!” Kazuya fumed.

Lee smiled, the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. Patting his pockets, he found a lighter and lit it, inhaling the smoke with obvious relish. Moving back to the bed, he sat down beside Kazuya again.

“Tell me what’s going on. I’m serious.”

Kazuya looked at him and frowned.

“There’s nothing wrong with me. Maybe you’re too fucking annoying, did you ever think of that?”

He snatched the half-finished cigarette from Lee and dragged heavily on it.

Lee didn’t say anything, but he watched him with a smirk on his face. He stood up again, and got another cigarette from the desk.

Kazuya glared. “Stop taking my cigarettes! You have your own!”

Lee sat beside him with a freshly lit cigarette between his lips and gazed at him for a moment before inhaling with obvious pleasure.

“I do, but I want yours.”

Kazuya froze, because Lee was now looking at him with unconcealed lust in his eyes. Lee edged closer to him on the bed.

“I know why you followed me. So do you. The only question is whether you can be honest with yourself about what you want.”

He continued to pull at the cigarette, and gazed calmly at Kazuya. Kazuya’s eyes were drawn to his lips, curving around the paper cylinder of the cigarette, plump and soft. Like they’d look around his –

“You know something,” Lee continued in a casual tone, “after I saw you there the first time, it sort of ruined the experience for me.”

Finishing the cigarette, he extinguished it and looked at Kazuya again.

“After I saw you, I pictured everyone after that as you. I pretended to close my eyes and I watched you there in the shadows.”

He smiled.

“I got in trouble once, I forgot myself and called one guy Kazuya…he was so mad, and he tried to hit me. I knocked him out with a kick to the head and then left an anonymous phone message on his father’s machine saying where he was.”

His eyes were dark and full of laughter, and Kazuya decided right then and there. He closed the distance between them, and pressed his mouth to Lee’s.

Lee’s mouth was hot and tasted of smoke. His tongue slid into Kazuya’s mouth as he pushed his body close. Kazuya allowed Lee to push him back fully on his bed and lie on top of him. Kazuya’s legs parted, and slid up around Lee, holding him close. Lee pushed his hands under Kazuya’s shirt and caressed his chest, gently stroking his nipples in little circles. Kazuya moaned into his mouth. Lee’s cock was hard and pressed tightly against his hip. He shoved rough hands into the silver hair, as he’d watched so many men do, and twisted his fingers through it as they kissed. On and on they kissed, until at last Lee broke away and pushed himself back on his elbows.

“Do you want to …?”

“Yes,” Kazuya said, before he could stop himself.

Lee looked down at him. He was flushed and dishevelled. His shirt was mostly off and his necklace was twisted around the wrong way.

“I need to go clean up. I won’t be long.”

Kazuya let him get up and watched him leave. He lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Everything that had happened was a complete mess. It was fucked up. It was everything he’d wanted. Lee had him there. Rising from the bed, he looked in the mirror for a long moment. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was beginning to wilt. His shirt was half open and pushed away from his skin, showing the broad scar that traversed his chest. There was a hungry look in his eyes he didn’t recognise, something hiding behind his dark gaze. It vaguely troubled him.

Returning to his bed, he sat against the wall. Lee had been gone a long time now. He tried to push away the thoughts that arose. Devil shifted and uncoiled from his place in the back of his mind, and whispered. His words were poison.

_He’s making a fool of you._

_Go away_ , Kazuya thought fiercely. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to recall Lee’s face, and the way he’d looked at him, the feel of the satiny hair between his fingers.

Minutes ticked by, and still he was alone. Kazuya burned with humiliation.

_He’s going to tell everybody. He’s going to laugh at you._

He would kill Lee before he let that happen. His rage surged and bubbled. He’d been a fool to think this could ever happen. It was perverse. It was only another of Lee’s little games.

A dull _crack_! disrupted his thoughts. His energy was temporarily diverted; the noise had come from outside. His father? Unlikely, but always possible. The old demon usually slept soundly through the night, but there had been occasions when he’d been unpleasantly surprised –

Kazuya shivered, and unconsciously clenched his fists.

A second _crack_ drew his attention to the window. He got up, and looked out.

Silhouetted against the blank glow of the moon was Lee, silver hair glimmering in the moonlight. He wore only a pair of loose white gi pants. The red glow of a cigarette between his lips faintly illuminated his face, which was upturned towards Kazuya’s window. Lazily raising his right hand, he gestured for Kazuya to come down.

Kazuya’s rage was replaced by a burning curiosity. The thought of simply ignoring Lee crossed his mind, but he pushed it away. If Lee thought he could mock him and get away with it, he had another thing coming. His pretty face wouldn’t be the same after Kazuya had finished with it.

He slipped downstairs and quietly opened the front door, ensuring he left it on the latch so he could get back in. Lee stayed where he was, hanging back in the gloom. Kazuya folded his arms across his chest and stopped at the threshold.

“What the fuck do you want?” he hissed at his brother.

“Come here,” Lee whispered, beckoning again.

“I’m not falling for any more of your little tricks,” Kazuya retorted.

“Tell me what you want and stop fucking around.”

Lee finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground, letting the gravel extinguish it. He approached Kazuya slowly, and paused a few feet from him.

“You always have to make things difficult for me, don’t you Kazzy?”

“ _Me_?” Kazuya growled before he could stop himself. “You were supposed to come back.”

Now he could see Lee’s face more clearly, and the little smile Lee allowed himself before he spoke again.

“Nothing has changed, Kazuya, I still want you.”

Kazuya’s breath caught as he forced himself to choke out “Then why did you bring me out here?”

Lee smiled wickedly.

“There’s just one more thing you have to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Catch me.” And he turned and hurtled into the dark depths of the garden.

Before he could think about it, Kazuya flung himself after him. Lee only had a few seconds’ head start, but he was by far the faster of the two, fleet and sleek where Kazuya’s broader frame was slower. Kazuya’s breath was shallow, choked by lust and the strain of pushing his body at this speed. Ahead of him, Lee’s pale body flashed between the solid, twisted shapes of the trees, highlighted by the moonlight that slanted down on the garden. They ran straight through Heihachi’s prized rock garden, sending his finely raked sand up in sprays. Lee paused, and doubled back past Kazuya, flashing past him before he could react and change direction. He was heading towards the back of the garden.

Kazuya had one advantage Lee didn’t; he had spent more time in the garden since he was old enough to walk. He knew the little nooks and crannies, the loose slabs of stone that he hid his childish treasures under, and the spots that afforded one privacy from his father’s attention. Most importantly, he knew the shortcuts. As Lee plunged straight between the trees towards the back of the garden, Kazuya veered off towards the left, where there was a narrow gap between the trees that he’d used to escape from his father on many occasions. Pushing himself, he cleared the gap, and arrived in the clearing at the back of the garden mere seconds before Lee crashed straight into him. Kazuya grabbed him, and held him tightly. Lee didn’t struggle. He gazed at Kazuya’s face and merely said “Looks like you caught me.”

Kazuya didn’t say anything. He pulled Lee close to him and kissed him savagely, enjoying the feel of his skin and his tight, muscular body against him. Despite their chase, Lee smelled fresh and clean. He’d washed the others off him. Lee responded to his rough affections in kind, surprising Kazuya. He moved impatiently against Kazuya’s iron grip, trying to free himself. Kazuya smiled into his mouth. Finally, Lee broke the kiss.

“Let me go, Kazuya.”

“And have you run away again?”

“You caught me,” Lee whispered. “No more running.”

Kazuya swallowed, unsure how to reply. He let Lee go, and watched as his brother took a couple of steps back. Lee was still panting slightly from the exertion of the chase, and his flawless skin was flushed. The gi pants couldn’t conceal his obvious arousal, and Kazuya unconsciously touched himself.

“Kazuya,” Lee whispered, “I want you.”

He had taken two more steps back, and was now leaning against a tree. Kazuya followed. Placing an arm either side of Lee, he trapped him against the tree trunk. Lee didn’t try to escape; instead he looked straight at Kazuya. The moonlight shone through his silvery hair, and illuminated the wicked look in his eyes. Their mouths met in a kiss; tender this time. Lee slid his arms around Kazuya to pull his brother closer, grinding their hips together. The sensation sent little sparks through Kazuya and he gasped into his brother’s mouth. Pushing Lee back into the tree, he broke the kiss to press his lips to Lee’s ear, neck, throat, making him cry out. That sound was too much for him, and he finally looked up at Lee again.

“Enough fucking around,” Lee panted. “Fuck me, Kazuya.”

Kazuya said nothing, but roughly yanked Lee’s gi pants off, exposing the muscular thighs and cock eager for his attention. Lee’s hands moved quickly to undo Kazuya’s shirt buttons, allowing his hands to roam over the exposed skin greedily. He undid Kazuya’s trousers with deft fingers, immediately sliding a hand around his cock for a brief squeeze. Kazuya stepped out of them quickly, and looked up to meet Lee’s eyes again. Lee’s eyes were all over him, hot and appreciative.

Kazuya had never wanted him more.

“Wait, Kazuya,” Lee urged. “My pocket…do you know what to–“

“Yes.” He didn’t want to think of the others now. They were unworthy.

Bending to retrieve Lee’s discarded pants, he found a small tube of lubricant in the left pocket. He quickly prepared two fingers, and moved towards Lee. Running his hand down his brother’s back, he slid the first finger in and watched Lee’s face. Lee writhed against Kazuya’s finger, pushing back on it as it stretched and rubbed inside him. Kazuya seized him roughly with his free hand, enjoying the blissful expression as his finger worked inside Lee. He slid a second finger in to join the first, stroking and sliding as Lee gasped and pushed against him, tightening against his fingers. Kazuya could take it no more.

“Are you…”

Lee’s eyes fastened on him, and he smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Withdrawing his fingers, Kazuya slicked up his cock. Lee’s eyes lingered on it.

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Kazuya pressed Lee back against the tree. Lee raised his left leg to curl around Kazuya’s hip, drawing him closer. Kazuya dragged up the other leg, until his brother was propped and held against the tree by him. Kazuya waited til he was steady, then slid in. The heat and the tightness was unbelievable. He groaned. Lee dragged their mouths together. As Kazuya began to thrust in and out, Lee fucked Kazuya’s mouth with his tongue.

Lee squirmed against him, trapped between Kazuya’s body and the tree. Kazuya broke the kiss and pushed him hard back against the tree, enjoying the flash of pain that crossed Lee’s face as the rough bark scraped his skin, before it was replaced by an expression of utter pleasure as Kazuya’s cock found his prostate again. Lee’s cock thrust between them, trapped between their bodies, slick with precome, and Kazuya slid a hand down to grasp it, enjoying Lee’s ragged gasp as he did so. His cock leaped as he grasped it, and he smiled as he felt Lee push his hips forward, greedy for more contact. Kazuya smiled sadistically and dragged his hand up and down the shaft slowly.

Lee’s breath caught and he struggled against Kazuya, trapped between him and the tree. Kazuya's months watching helped him recognise the signs that Lee was close. He didn’t want to miss this. Moving his dark head closer to Lee’s mouth, Kazuya hissed “Keep your eyes open. I want to see you come.”

Lee twisted against him, desperately.

“Then you’ll have to fuck me harder, brother,” he responded, scratching his nails into Kazuya’s back.

Kazuya growled, and increased the depth and pace of his thrusts. His hand tightened on Lee’s cock, but Lee only moaned and pushed against him more. Lee’s eyes were glazing over, and his breaths were ragged.

Kazuya leaned into his face again.

“Look at me.”

“Kazuya,” Lee gasped as he came, dark eyes on his. He came with a shout, covering Kazuya’s chest and fist with his hot come. Kazuya couldn’t hold back any longer. He hissed as he pounded into Lee, pushing him back harder against the tree, the friction between them electric. His hours of arousal poured into his release and he saw stars as he came, filling Lee up as he arched back on his cock.

They remained like that for a moment, Lee’s long legs hanging looser around his hips now. Kazuya put Lee down, enjoying the way his brother winced as he reached back to feel the new scratches from the tree’s bark covering his back, proof of Kazuya’s attentions. Lee had clawed his own scratches into Kazuya’s shoulders, and Kazuya savoured their sting.

Lee was silently dressing now, lifting his legs gingerly. Kazuya smirked, enjoying the evidence of his attentions. He picked up his own shirt off the grass and slid it onto his damp skin, shivering at its coolness. He didn’t bother putting his underwear back on and simply pulled up his trousers, shoving his discarded underwear into his back pocket.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“You should go back in first,” Lee said quietly. “If he wakes, he’s used to me coming in later, it would be better if you go first.” He paused. “I’m not sure I’ll be as quiet as I usually am.”

Kazuya smirked, running his eyes openly over his brother’s ravaged body. He turned to go.

“Kazuya!”

Lee was looking at him, arms now folded across his chest.

“Is that it, then?”

Kazuya looked back at him blankly. What did Lee expect him to say to that? He started walking away again.

Lee hissed behind him.

“You think now that we’ve done this, you’ve got all your control back? You’re fucking _wrong_ , Kazuya! We both know the truth of what happened!”

Kazuya stopped. He turned and crossed the short distance back to Lee, who held his ground.

“You’re right,” he forced out between his gritted teeth.

Roughly, he seized a hank of silvery hair and rubbed it between his fingers. Lee winced, but he didn’t pull away.

“We both know exactly what happened. I don’t think we need to talk about it, do you?”

“Do you regret it?”

Lee’s eyes held his. Kazuya gazed into them for a long moment. Releasing Lee’s hair, he stepped back, and looked at his brother for a long moment.

Turning away, he made his way towards the house, and didn’t look back.

In his room, he groaned when he saw the time. Training in a few hours. The pack of cigarettes Lee had taken was still on his bed. He shook one out, and smoked it in silence.

He would not, could not think of this now.

Sleep came, and he was shaken out of it what seemed like minutes later by a panicked Lee.

“Kazuya, Kazuya!”

He moaned, softly, eyes shut.

“What the fuck do you want? My alarm hasn’t even gone off.”

“Kazuya, please, help me!”

Something about Lee’s tone snapped him awake. He dragged his eyelids up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Blearily, he made out Lee crouched beside his bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just went to wash quickly before training and I –“

Lee pushed back the loose t-shirt he wore. His back was covered in pink, blotchy scratches. When they did their kata, Heihachi would notice. Kazuya felt his blood run cold inside him.

“What time is it?”

“It’s early – five thirty.”

So they had half an hour, then. Kazuya looked around his room, desperately searching for something to help, then an idea flashed into his mind. Quickly, he leaped from his bed and pulled his favourite pair of red Converse from his wardrobe.

Lee frowned. “Kazuya, what are you doing?”

“Put those on with your training gear, and meet me outside the dojo in fifteen minutes.”

Understanding crossed Lee’s face, and he nodded, and left to finish his preparations.

Kazuya sank back onto his bed, every nerve awake and jangling. Sighing, he began his own preparations for the morning’s training.

He left his room ten minutes later, heading down towards the dojo. He could hear his father awake and moving around downstairs, ordering the servants about. Bypassing the kitchen, he headed straight out to the dojo, where Lee waited, anxious and pale.

Kazuya stopped a few feet away and looked at him.

Behind him, he could hear his father’s heavy step crunching on the gravel in his geta sandals.

He formed his face into a fierce glare and folded his arms across his chest.

“Why the fuck are you wearing my favourite sneakers?”

“Kazuya, I thought you wouldn’t mind, they are old and I didn’t –”

“Shut up,” Kazuya spat, coldly, aware that his father was now within earshot. “You’ve taken too many of my things and you need to learn the consequences.”

He launched himself at Lee, catching him off balance, and knocked him on his back with a fierce punch. Lee cried out, having been caught awkwardly and Kazuya was on him, punching him and crushing him with his weight. Lee caught him with a punch to the jaw and he growled with genuine anger, pummeling his brother in response. Suddenly, he was knocked off Lee by a brutal kick to the shoulder. He lay stunned for a moment, stars behind his eyes, aware only of Lee’s cry of dismay in the background.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Heihachi Mishima bellowed, looking from Kazuya to Lee in outrage.

Lee answered first.

“It was my fault, Father. I borrowed his sneakers without asking.”

Heihachi gazed coldly down at Lee, before stepping past him to loom over Kazuya.

Kazuya pulled himself to his knees and looked up at his father defiantly. His shoulder ached.

“What have I told you about fighting with your brother like this?!” Heihachi raged. “Are you an animal to lack self-control like this?”

Kazuya kept his face perfectly still, aware of Lee hovering anxiously behind his father.

“You have nothing to say for yourself, then?” Heihachi prompted. “Nothing to say to your brother?”

Kazuya smiled then, and slowly stood up, feeling the way his shoulder ground painfully.

“Actually, I do.”

He looked past his father, to where Lee stood behind him, and met Lee’s eyes. They were full of concern and it touched him.

“I regret nothing.”

In the split second before Heihachi’s fist met the side of his head with a thud, he saw the realisation in Lee’s eyes. He lay fallen where his father had hit him, only dimly aware of Heihachi ranting over him, and the blood trickling down the side of his face. Finally his father stopped, and moved out of his vision, to be replaced by Lee.

Lee pulled him up into a sitting position and peered into his face.

“He says he won’t train with us today, that we’re weak and unworthy. Are you ok?”

Kazuya nodded. His vision was clearing, and Lee’s arms felt good around him.

“I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

Their eyes met again for a moment. Kazuya stood up, shakily, and Lee followed. He needed to get something for this cut and to lie down for a while.

They returned to the house. Lee got him a chair from the kitchen and went in search of cotton and antiseptic. Their staff were not there; at this hour, they would be preparing breakfast and tidying their rooms. Kazuya sat in silence, the events of the morning flashing past him as if in a dream. The cut on his head was still bleeding; he could feel the blood trickle slowly down the side of his head.

Lee returned with supplies, and stood beside him, looking at his wound for a moment. Before Kazuya could react, he bent and pressed a quick kiss to it, licking the blood off.

“What are you doing?” He didn’t recognise his own voice. It was shaky and faraway.

“Kissing it better.” Lee dropped to his knees to look him in the eyes for a brief moment. “It’s pretty deep, and it’ll probably scar, but it should stop soon. The blood’s starting to clot now.”

He stood, and warned “This will probably hurt.”

Kazuya cringed as Lee pressed a cotton pad soaked in disinfectant to the wound, but he didn’t move. Lee held the pad there for a long moment, pressuring the wound. He was close enough for Kazuya to run his eyes up and down the well-muscled legs and breathe in his hot, clean scent. How many times had they done this, Lee tending to him while Kazuya seethed and eyed him with a mix of resentment and lust?

“There,” Lee announced, after some time had passed, lifting the soaked cotton from Kazuya’s head.

He cut a bandage from a roll of gauze strip and awkwardly stuck it to the wound, trying to hold its edges together.

Kazuya stood, and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Lee’s mouth was hot, and he tasted his own blood on his tongue; coppery and salty. Lee closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. This was different; intimate in a way the others hadn’t been. Their bodies pressed against each other. Kazuya’s long fingers traced a path through Lee’s silver hair down the back of his neck to the network of tiny lacerations on his upper back. Lee winced, but he didn’t pull away. He had looped his arms around Kazuya’s broad shoulders and held him tightly.

They broke the kiss, looking into each others’ eyes for a long moment, before moving back.

Neither said anything. Nothing needed to be said.

Kazuya knew, without either of them having to discuss it, that their relationship had changed for good; he would never be able to follow Lee out again. Because Lee wouldn’t need to escape anymore.

Lee knew, without either of them having to discuss it, that Kazuya would never allow him to spend time with other men without having something to say about it. His back was covered in marks that Kazuya had put there; he had no doubt that more would follow. For him, Kazuya had taken a brutal beating from their father; he would carry that scar for the rest of his life, and only the two of them would know what it was for.

Kazuya reached into his pocket and drew out his cigarettes. He offered one to Lee, who took it, and they stood apart, smoking in intimate silence.


End file.
